


Out of Depth

by livinginthepast



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: M/M, Partners in Crime, Pre-Series, gap year, i messed this up but hey what can u do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-05-24 23:32:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14964327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livinginthepast/pseuds/livinginthepast
Summary: “Howard. You know what we should do?”“What?”“Steal a painting.”“No. No way. Vince, did you hit your head? We can’t steal! That’s stealing.”





	1. Chapter 1

“I’ll have you know paisley makes the girls go crazy-ly,” Howard deflected Vince from getting annoyed at his lack of fashion knowledge to instead focus on the incredibly bad rhyme he’d made. Spending almost the whole summer together travelling was bound to cause some conflict and simply moving Vince away from any potential problems seemed to be working so far. They’d almost reached an actual disagreement, that went beyond a spat or sarcastic comment, in Vienna when Vince insisted they must find the first shop to sell Viennetta. When Howard suggested after a long day’s searching that maybe Viennetta wasn’t made in Vienna Vince almost ran off into the pretty architecture by himself. The only reason he didn’t up and leave Howard to worry and feel even more like the anti-thesis of happiness, was that their flight to Paris was supposed to be later that day. And so, they were here, in Paris, trying to hold off the inevitable argument.

Their small hand luggage suitcases had been tipped onto Howard’s bed by Vince. For the past month and a bit, they’d been sleeping on bunkbeds in various hostels across the globe or sleeping on whatever form of transportation they’d been using to get to the next location. Howard decided that for their last place they should splash out on a few nights in a, still fairly budget, hotel. Vince was so excited to actually have space to spread his things out and finally be able to dress himself properly. He’d automatically roped Howard into his antics and figured they should both get dressed to go out for a nice dinner and a drink and maybe a bit of a walk to figure out where stuff in the city was for tomorrow. 

Powerless to any kind of enthusiasm Howard agreed and they’d been getting dressed when the beginnings of the dispute began. Vince was disgusted by the few ties Howard had decided to bring. He deemed them an attack on his, and everyone else’s, eyesight.

“Look, not everyone is as fashionable as you, Vince. Besides, I’m sure next to you I’ll look at least ten times better than anyone else in the room.”

“Alright fine. But you’re definitely not going outside in paisley.”

Howard rolled his eyes and searched beneath the pile of clothes for the envelope of euros they’d been using for the trip. They were down to around €200 with a few small notes and coins which was hanging about in his wallet and Vince’s luggage somewhere. He took out a 50 euro note and another €20 in case their drinks excursion went on longer than expected. 

Once they’d fiddled about the key card, well Howard did – Vince was playing with his hair, they made their way out into the brick-laid streets. It was a nice balmy evening and the air of a new city made Howard’s mind flow with inspiration. He’d already filled his first leather jotter by the time they reached some rural areas of Italy and had to buy a new one. It was a gorgeous hand-made leather notebook with creamy thick paper which was a real joy to write on compared the terribly printed lined paper he was used to. Travel was great for inspiration and he was sure that Paris wouldn’t be an exception.

They reached what seemed to be a quite standard steak restaurant from the outside and noticed people smoking and drinking outside in the streetlights Vince got excited. He didn’t really like eating, Howard had noticed, so it was a stroke of look that the people dining looked interesting enough to capture his attention enough to need an excuse to sit inside.  
They sat near the window so Howard could do some people watching whilst Vince chatted away about the people he was watching’s clothing. It was their system for restaurants.

The menu was fairly standard and Howard ordered himself a mid-price steak and chips whilst Vince opted for BBQ Chicken with chips. He picked at the chicken and provided salad but finished all the chips.

“Howard. Howard. Howard. Howard? Howard. Howard!”

“What?” Howard asked, looking away from the group of friends who had a strange way of talking to one another in the burning lights.”

“Look over there,” Vince pointed to a short man with dark curly hair who was sat at the end of a rustic wooden table which was much longer than the other tables. 

“Are you pointing out people’s fashion sense again because I’d prefer to have some kind of warning before being kicked out.”

“No! I recognise him. I think maybe we saw him in Budapest?”

“We saw lots of people in Budapest.”

“Obviously,” Vince rolled his eyes in frustration, “I think we had a few drinks with him on the train.”

“You mean you did.”

“Whatever, Howard. Oh, shit. He’s coming over.”

They both sipped their respective drinks trying to look like they hadn’t noticed the approaching man.

“Vince! You dyed your hair! It’s got nice little blue bits now. Like an ocean breeze. Beautiful.”

“Yeah, cheers! How you been?”

“Just travelling and seeing if I can’t find myself some kind of holiday romance…”

Howard’s brain’s protective quarter flashed with a tiny red LED on the dashboard of a rather regular conversation for Vince. He ignored the light and pretended to continue eating whilst his ears pricked up in a fashion that he was rather ashamed of.  
Vince and the man continued to discuss what they’d been doing on holiday. Vince explained in great detail their journey from Budapest to Venice to Amsterdam to Brussels to France noting all the slightly interesting things he’d managed to encounter. It almost sounded surreal thinking about all the animals Vince seemed to have a past with and how they’d managed to bump into every single one on their gap year which was supposed to be the normality before the crazy university experience they were both expecting. 

“Actually, Howard, what are we doing tomorrow?” Vince asked with an inflection that pleaded him to say something appropriate. 

“I thought we were going to the Louvre.”

“Oh yeah! I’m super into art and stuff and Howard likes all the weird little signs besides the paintings that talk about representations of lighting or whatever. Should be fun. What are you doing?”

Howard’s lips tugged into a small grin, happy that Vince appreciated his hard work to pick things that wouldn’t bore either of them to death. It was a fairly tough job considering how different their interests seemed. Galleries always seemed to be neutral ground but they compromised on particular favourites of the other person.

The man left and they finished their meal. Dissolving into the night with pockets slightly lighter and stomach’s full. Vince skipped his way back not feeling the need to digest properly before he started jumping around. He talked at a hundred miles a minute about what the man, who Howard found actually was named Ludwig, had said was in the Louvre. He’d visited the day before and spent the entire day looking at the sculptures rather than the paintings. Vince tended to gravitate towards paintings more but it seemed whatever Ludwig had said made Vince think a bit more broadly about art. It was refreshing, up until the point he turned on his heel and stared up at Howard with his blue eyes bolder than ever framed by the blue streaks in his hair.

“Howard. You know what we should do?”

“What?”

“Steal a painting.”

“No. No way. Vince, did you hit your head? We can’t steal! That’s stealing.”

“Come on Howard. We could barely fund this year as it is and I had my eye on the Jean Claude Jaquettie flagship store.”

“We aren’t becoming criminals to fund your already ridiculous habit of buying a new piece of designer clothing in each place we visit.”

“I know we don’t have much money left and I won’t be able to get anything good if we do go to the shop. So, I say if we steal a painting we’ll both be happy.”

“Of course. If we don’t get locked up in a Parisian prison and stuck there for the rest of our lives – but of course it’ll be fine because you’ll have a fancy pair of new shoes or a bag or something.”

“Jaquettie is famed for jackets, Howard.”

“Fine. A jacket then.”

They crashed at the hotel and Howard had finally had enough of Vince begging him to become a criminal. To try and take a hold of the situation Howard headed to the shower and washed away all the grime. He missed fluffy towels on his travels and using one to dry his hair was a nice reminder of how close he was to home. Vince would hopefully give up on his ridiculous plan and they could just get on with enjoying Paris. Howard looked into the steamed-up mirror letting out a breath to try and clear the condensation – he resigned to it using his hand to wipe the surface. He looked at his ruffled hair and wrinkled face wondering if Vince was right to think about fashion as he did. Perhaps it was a way for Vince to continue to feel young. He certainly didn’t anymore. Travel made him feel like an old explorer and the reality of being able to fend for himself on his own was causing a mini age realisation. He stopped pulling his skin about to hide the wrinkles and put the hotel’s provided robe on.  
He stepped back into the room cautious of his vulnerability of not bringing clothes into the shower. He perused his luggage for some PJs whilst Vince flicked through a fashion magazine.

“Just look here Howard,”

“What it is?” He sighed.

“Jacquettie. Do you see why I need one?”

He looked at the image Vince’s polished, but chipped, fingernail pointed towards. The model was wearing a hefty amount of blush and the jacket was of the same salmon colour. It had a classic men’s dinner jacket cut but with glittery embroidery on the cuffs of the sleeves and edges of the collar. He didn’t particularly love the jacket – he saw its appeal to Vince. Vince favoured all things sparkly and didn’t miss an opportunity to be the most fanciful in the room.

“I suppose it’s quite nice.”

“You know I would look amazing in it.”

“If this is your attempt to try a get me to steal a painting then you have another thing coming, sir.”

Vince put on his most successful doe-eyed face ready to plead. Howard was unintentionally drawn in by it – he couldn’t help himself. Vince took advantage of the strange manly part of him that wanted to care and protect someone from all the whims and stupidity of the world. It wouldn’t be an understatement to admit being around someone so wayward gave Howard a sense of self-importance and put-togetherness he lacked when Vince wasn’t around. Even so, he couldn’t give in without feigned reluctance.

“I just don’t want to get in trouble Vince.”

“You’ve always been a goody-two-shoes Howard. D’you remember when I passed you that note and Ms Hackman asked you about it and you shoved all the blame on me.”

“But it was your fault.”

“So? You don’t read the note to the rest of the class though. Everyone knows that.”

“Howard Moon follows every letter of the law. You’ll never find me in a prison cell or police station unless I’m reporting a crime. That’s how I roll, Sir. I’m no lawbreaking fool.”

“That restraining order says otherwise.”

“That was never proven.”

Vince rolled his eyes and tried his second tactic.

“Can you imagine how famous we’ll be if we manage to steal it?”

“We’ll be remembered as those idiots who tried to get past one of the world’s most rigorous security systems and failed.”

“How about a compromise?”

“What do you mean?”

“Instead of going for the Louvre why don’t we start small. Steal something where there’s little security.”

“Will you stop going on? There’s literally no way we’re going to steal, ok? It’s wrong.”

“So is me not owning something as gorgeous as a Jacquiette jacket.”

“Stop pouting.”

\--

Vince was aware that he could wear Howard down in order to get exactly what he wanted. He figured Howard would get incredibly bored and needy if he was ignored by Vince in a location where most people didn’t really talk to tourists. Howard’s French was rusty anyway. It would be a matter of walking off in the gallery and talking to anyone apart from Howard who wanted to chat. It would be even better if they were attractive enough to make Howard want to jump in on the conversation. They set off at the scheduled time of 11 o clock. Vince was surprisingly ready to go without spending an extra twenty minutes re-straitening his hair or whatever else he did to make Howard stand waiting near the door. Howard didn’t question it, figuring that if he just accepted it as normal it would stop Vince realising he did actually need to spend half hour extra getting dressed. 

Howard held the doors open as they made their way out of the entrance, past the other more put-together guests, into the sunshine. The little yellow tinted slits of light were in Howard’s peripheral as he focused on the skipping energetic movements of Vince. He checked every so often with Howard that he was going the right way. Howard nodded when he was right and looked in the correct direction when he was wrong. 

The excitable tourists filtering into the pretty glass building mirrored the feelings had by the pair of travellers. Nothing could beat the feeling of seeing a place that seemed not quite part of the real-world due to its incessant depiction in the media. It was another such place that could be added to the short list of Vince’s favourite places which not only included pretty buildings but places he felt most happy at. Howard’s mum was happy to boast her house being top of that list. 

“Howard, what are you doing? We can queue anywhere. C’mon let’s explore.”

“Hold off a minute. I’m just getting a map.”

“Oh actually that’s not a bad idea.”

“I have my moments.”

Vince visibly shook in anticipation of getting to see some of his most favoured artists’ works up close and stare properly at the brushwork. He’d almost shaken off the idea of criminal activity. Almost. 

A long walk through a section of the gallery which was dedicated to more abstract forms of expression and an agreement to make their way slowly over to the Mona Lisa. Vince enacted his plan in one of the longer walkways talking to a pretty girl who was a photographer from Sweden called Vector. 

Howard stared on stonily as they talked about the benefits of a good name and what lighting would make Vince’s outfit look perfect in which kind of lens. When that rather lengthy topic had finished Howard had since crossed his arms waiting for Vince to finish rather than joining the hordes of people hoping for a peek of Da Vinci’s most famous piece. Vince pointedly didn’t say anything to him once Vector had disappeared off into a different room. He walked past with speed towards the crowd. Howard had a slight panic and followed in anticipation. 

Pushing to the front with the experience of someone who managed to be in the front row at gigs with a fresh drink Vince found himself in awe of the glass-protected heavily guarded delicate painting. He pulled out the disposable camera he’d kept in his back-jean pocket through sheer will and snapped a photo of the beautiful eyebrow-less lady. Strong ragged hand pulled him and his camera out of the crowd and Howard watched with distain as Vince got taken aside by security. He pushed himself out of the crowd and made to save his friend from impending doom.

“You know that photos of the Mona Lisa are strictly prohibited.”

“No?”

“Well they are. So, I’m going to have to confiscate that camera.”

“What, why? That has all mine and Howard’s photos from way back when we had to buy a new one in Brussels.”

“I don’t care what photos you have on it. It’s our property now.”

“No it isn’t! Oh, Howard. Come over here.”

Howard regretted the protective streak he seemed to have and made his presence more known to the guard. The men were drawing quite a few stares now. 

“Howard tell him. It’s our camera, we brought it.”

“It is.” He agreed. 

“That doesn’t matter. That photo is a security breach and you can’t keep it.”

Vince rolled his eyes and sighed. This wasn’t going to be pretty. He shouted something which didn’t make sense and in the confusion, he took the camera from the security guard’s strong grasp. He grabbed Howard’s elbow and dragged him out the building. No doubt the shock had frozen Howard’s feet like a vintage style Action Man.  
They ran the rest of the way down from gallery back past the road that brought them there in the first place and to a side street where they deemed it safe enough to take a few minutes to rest. 

“Vince! I said no criminality,” Howard said in-between breaths. 

“Bit late for that.”

“You’re an absolute idiot.”

“But I thought I saw other people with cameras too.”

“Doesn’t matter, you were the one they picked out.”

“That’s so unfair,” Vince pouted. 

They agreed to walk back towards the hotel and find a place for some lunch. A bite to eat was required for Howard’s stress levels to be brought back to normal and also meant they could discuss what the hell Vince was thinking, which likely was not a lot. Sometimes Howard wondered if Vince spending his early childhood in a forest had been the root of his strange way of justifying his actions. It wasn’t worth bringing it up, though, as little would change. 

As soon as they stepped into the bistro Howard’s shoulders dropped saying to Vince he was no longer as wound-up and scared as he had been. They ordered something simple to digest and hoped the conversation beyond complimenting the food was just as easy to swallow.

“So,” Howard started.

“I don’t know what you’re saying so for. We both know it’s me you’re gonna have a go at.”

“I suppose. I just couldn’t think of a way to begin.”

“Obviously,” Vince rolled his eyes.

“Look, Vince. I’m not angry at you or anything. I think it’s stupid you can’t take photos. It’s just a painting – it’s already been photographed millions of times. Plus, it was shitty of them to try take our camera.”

“I know right! Bastards. Just because they want to develop my holiday snaps and get a good look at me.”

“Yeah. Wait what?”

“Well, obviously they noticed that I’m a fashion pioneer and thought they’d steal my holiday outfits.”

“I don’t think a bunch of burly French security guards would want to dress up as a futuristic pirate or whatever.”

“Hey! That look was genius. Anyways, you never know, Howard, jobs don’t mean anything fashion-wise.”

“Whatever.”

“This doesn’t mean I’ve given up on the jacket by the way.”

“I didn’t expect it and to be honest I’ve warmed to the idea a little bit.”

“What thievery?”

“Art theft.”

“How come?”

“I think I have a mild vendetta against security guards.”

“Is that a sexual thing?” Vince looked concerned. 

“No! It’s like a revenge thing.”

“Oh. That makes way more sense. I was gonna say that’s a bit… kinky for you.”

“Thanks?”

Vince shrugged and finished picking at the bread he’d ordered. It was unexpected that Howard’s mind could be changed with something as simple as some holiday photos, but he wasn’t going to complain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First bit of speech was from something James Acaster wrote, I could imagine Howard saying it.


	2. Chapter 2

Getting involved in the weird underground culture of a particular city was more Vince’s thing than Howard’s which meant that when they started trying to find out more about the black art market that Vince stepped up. Within the next day Vince had contacts in all kinds of areas and had managed to secure them a split of the profits in one of his new friends’ schemes if they were willing to do the riskiest part of the job.   
Obviously, Howard being Howard wasn’t so convinced it was the best position to be in. But he also didn’t want to lose their only chance at being a part of the group. Their flight was leaving noon the day after the planned theft and Vince needed time in the morning to buy his jacket. 

The pair met with the group in a bar where Vince had first discovered the plot. It was exactly what was expected of a place where criminals met to discuss business – tarnished wood and mysterious stains. Howard sat on a threadbare chair which had clearly been sat in by people much more sturdy and manly than he could ever hope to be. Vince was in his element. His eyes sparkled drinking in the atmosphere which seemed at odds with his fashionably fussy personality. 

“Harry, isn’t it?”

Howard nodded. He and Vince had decided to use pseudonyms because it felt a bit strange to be themselves in front of a well-established crime syndicate. It would be different if they were organising the theft themselves but there wasn’t nearly enough time to do that.

“Right, well, you and Violet are going to meet me and Frederic at our rented location which is a street from the house. Alright?”

“Sounds good.”

“When you get there, we’ll kit you up. Your bit is easy - you just need to follow behind us when the security system is down. There shouldn’t be anyone about, the family are ridiculously trusting and abroad somewhere. In case there is, though, we’ll give you a pager or something.”

“Got it,” Vince smiled.

“You better had.”

They drank late into the night. Vince curbed any attempt that questioned his and Howard’s past. It was difficult to redirect them after three cocktails and so Vince gave up telling them that he and Harry loved travelling giving a brief description of the places they’d been to.  
They chimed in with their own responses about the holidays they’d taken after work. To Howard their lack of normalcy was a strange over worldly aspect of the planet he’d never considered an actual part of the world. He just assumed that everyone did a job they got pushed into and never properly enjoyed their work. Being a criminal seemed so detached from society and it was a kind of eye-opener he’d never expected. 

Vince held up the conversation whilst Howard watched him asking questions and taking the time to make his voice heard. Around the 3am mark everyone dispersed off into the Parisian night. Howard had never felt more out of his depth. These were people who really didn’t care about convention. The type of people that Vince always got on with.   
On their walk, back through the balmy night to the hotel Vince chatted a thousand miles a minute about how excited he was. Howard’s anger at himself for allowing it because of some idiot security guard was inconsequential to the effect of allowing criminality into Vince Noir’s life. They were just barely adults. 

“Howard? Howard? Are you alright?” Vince asked when he realised his rambling was falling to the cracks in the pavement.

“I’m fine! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I dunno. It’s just you’ve got that same face on you had before the Aladdin performance we did.”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. I’m the one looking at you – I would know.”

“Okay. Fine. I’m a bit nervous.”

“It’s alright Howard. It’s just a tiny thingy cutting a pretty picture off a wall and shoving it into a poster tube. Nothing you haven’t done before.”

“Not the practicality of doing it. Just the whole morality thing. I don’t want us to become partners in crime. I’d be too afraid of being caught all the time. Besides, you’re the lucky one and I’m still worried for you and whatever the outcome of this is. What if we get dragged into the crime syndicate and have another few jobs sent our way and we just become these terrible criminals living in France? I don’t think that’s what I wanted my life to end up like. I’m too fragile – I’m supposed to be a poet or something far from danger. And what if that doesn’t happen but they manage to track us down? There’s too many possibilities and I don’t even know how to begin measuring them against each other.”

“Calm down. I made our position clear, they don’t know our names and we’re leaving soon.”

“But they know what we look like and presumably that we’re English.”

“Look, whatever, Howard. You’re just having one of your pre-event nerve-y moments. By tomorrow you’ll be fine.”

“What if I choke?”

“I’ll be there to help. Honestly, Howard, you’d think you didn’t agree to this.”

“I might regret that a bit.”

\--

Waking up to Vince singing whatever genre of music went with his particular state of mind wasn’t unusual. So, it was little surprise to Howard that he awoke when Vince started on the louder chorus part of Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac. It was more surprising Vince was wearing something fairly normal: a shirt and skinny jeans. Howard rolled out of bed grabbing the clothes Vince set out for him at the end of his bed and going into the bathroom for a quick shower. 

He came out freshened up in about ten minutes and Vince was looking at the door expectantly from his spot on his bed. His legs were crossed and he smiled when the bathroom opened.

“We have ten minutes before we have to leave or we won’t get to the house on time.”

He nodded and sat on the bed next to Vince leaning down to get his shoes a tie them up.

“We’re not having breakfast, are we?” Howard said.

“No way. I couldn’t stomach anything now. Not even toast.”

“We’ll get food afterwards, alright?”

“Okay.”

They looked at each other for a moment which could easily be read as a nervous but interested look. Vince didn’t want to let the team down, or Howard for that matter. Howard didn’t want to mess it up and become some kind of criminal’s rival. Vince got up first pulling up his jeans as they were a little loose around the waist. Howard soon followed. They shared another look which was more determined. They were going to get Vince a nice jacket and Howard was going to get god knew what.

\--

The house opposite the one they would be entering in a short while was much more normal than either of them had imagined. It was a very typical house for the area – tall with lots of windows and no space for a garden or even a fence. Frederic answered the door and led them to an empty room that was once upon a time a functioning living room but now was a dusty and dated looking one. A large rectangular table had been moved from the corner of the room to the middle – leaving a patch of flooring discoloured. On the table they’d set gloves, hats, a knife, two pagers and two odd shaped objects that Vince reckoned were Tasers. 

“Standard stuff, yeah?”

They nodded in response. Being caught out now would be a travesty. They pocketed the tasers and pagers and put the gloves on. Copying the two other men they left the hats off until the robbery was going to take place. 

“Alright, so we’re going to go in in about ten minutes. We’ll dismantle the security system and you should get a message to go in the building. One of us will come back out to take you round the back and you’ll find the painting in a room to the right of where you’ll be. Clear?”

“Yep.”

“Great. See you in a bit then.”

He left them to their own devices and the waiting game began. If there was a clock in the room it would make the tension an exact reflection of the inside of Howard’s brain.  
Vince tapped his fingers across the table in a complicated dance.

“Vince, stop it, would you? I’m nervous as it is.”

“Sorry. I’m just bored is all.”

“How can you be bored at a time like this?”

“Well the exciting bit hasn’t started yet, has it?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Thanks, Howard.”

He went back to tapping a different rhythm across the table and Howard was way too stressed to call him out on it. One of pagers beeped and Howard jumped up into the air whilst Vince looked incredibly happy taking the thing out his pocket.  
“It says ‘Ready’. You ready Howard?”

Howard didn’t move a muscle his face contorting into a weird wrinkly expression that felt somewhere between troubled sailor and disgruntled widow.

“Howard?” Vince waved a hand in front of his face, “Oh for fuck’s sake. Howard. Howard. You need to snap outta it.”  
He gave in and slapped him across the cheek in an attempt to get Howard’s brainbox working again. 

“Vince?”

“You froze up like a jubbly lolly and anyways we don’t have time.”

Vince shoved their hats over their ears and took his hand before he could protest or have his body turn into ice again. He led Howard down the corridor to the house across the road which was almost an exactly mirrored version of where they’d just been. True to his word Frederic beckoned them round the other side of the house towards a small patch of concrete which looked more like a step for smoking than a functional garden. They kept close to the walls, trying not to be seen by any potential passers-by. Nobody was around but it felt in keeping with the situation to be cautious and, besides, Howard’s nerves still hadn’t died down despite being dulled by adrenaline. 

The glass door was opened and they walked into the opulent but fairly minimalist and homely surroundings. Howard didn’t know what he expected but warm colours and simple furniture wasn’t it. He supposed that all rich people had an excessive number of over-the-top furnishings. Vince grasped his arm to remind him to stay grounded and remember exactly what they were doing there. He guided Howard away from the inviting, but modest bookcase, towards another door which had been kept open leading to a corridor which held another room in which the painting was hung on the wall above a walnut dining table. 

Vince took out the knife revealing its concealed blade and bounded towards the painting. The tearing of canvas was too much for Howard’s mind. The realisation dawning that this was a family’s home they were ruining. Vince carried on and removed the painting from its wooden canvas backing. Prying the paper from wood and leaving the varnished frame intact. He rolled up the paper and Howard willed himself to take a quick peek. The feeling of dread was removed and replaced by an overwhelming sense of achievement – they’d done it! Now all they had to do was take it back to the holding house. 

The rolled-up painting was placed in the crook of Vince arm and they exited out the same way they came with heads held high. Vince was really relishing in the moment – it was an extraordinary feeling knowing you’d gotten exactly what you wanted. They spotted Frederic behind the glass door keeping it shut. Vince and Howard looked at each other with concern and a small dose of confusion. Howard attempted to open the door as harshly as possible with his tall but strong Northern bone structure. Vince stood back a little realising that if they did open the door a scary looking French man would jump on them. Frederic stepped away from the glass looking pleased with himself through the small section of clear glass Vince could see-through. 

“Fuck!” He said, shocking himself that he’d said it aloud.

“What do we do, Vince?”

“Try another exit I suppose?”

“That’s not actually a terrible idea.”

“What can I say?”

“Stop being you a minute and go try the front door. I’ll check upstairs for any unlocked windows.”

“Nice. I’ll call you down if I need ya.”

Them splitting up was a great idea in theory. Although it was practical for the situation it felt a bit strange to be separated from the person you’d been trapped with. Howard found the stairs in a room to the back of the dining room area. He ran up them wishing he was lighter and more elegant. He checked each room for any open windows and found one in the third room – the problem being that it was directly above the concrete where Frederic and the other guy had been. 

Meanwhile, Vince was rapidly checking the rooms downstairs. The layout was more complicated than it first appeared what with there being a room which a first glance was a cupboard. The not cupboard’s door had been opened a crack and curiosity got the better of him. It looked like a simple burglar alarm system had been disconnected. If Vince was honest he expected the security system to be more fancy what with the seriousness it was approached by his art thief crew. Not that they were a crew anymore. He tried the room to the right of the front door hoping that one of the windows there was open. It wasn’t, but Vince figured given enough time he might be able to pick the lock or something.

Howard shouted down to Vince, “Hey Vince! Up here!”

Vince complied and climbed the stairs with an excited jaunt to his step.

“If we get this window open we might be able to climb across the ledge.”

“Is that safe?”

“No idea.”

“Well I suppose it’s the quickest route out so we may as well try.”  
“Okay well you’re smaller so go first and I’ll direct you.”

They moved an armchair over from the side of the room so Vince could comfortably reach the ledge. He ducked to make sure he didn’t hit his head or muss his hair as he climbed from the room to outside. Howard stayed fairly quiet opting to point and nod at Vince’s descent from ledge to brick wall. Luckily Frederic and his friend had run off somewhere intending to try and set Vince and Howard as the main perpetrators of the crime so they didn’t see the ridiculous communication happening above them. Vince hopped from ledge to a rung on a drainpipe to a piece of strong plastic above the door. The door was right next to a wall which fenced off this garden from their neighbours. When Vince reached the garden, Howard took off to try and do the whole thing again. Physically, it was much harder than he expected. His height and awkward limbs making things more difficult. His clothes got caught on the brick and his feet too wide for the plastic ledge he had to make some quick small movements so he didn’t tumble to the concrete in a pile of arms and legs.

He dusted off his clothes and took a quick look back at the house. It sounded like some people were walking towards the building. His instincts were screaming for him to freeze and stay hidden. Vince had other ideas. He grasped Howard’s hand and tugged him away from the building into the street. They ran the opposite direction to where they’d met with Frederic. Instead going to the end of the street and round, jogging back on themselves in a big circle. Howard was having an out of body experience whilst Vince led him round what seemed like an overcomplicated journey. His brain filled with a dull buzz and colours around him seemed to be saturated to a level that felt unreal and artistic. 

The road in front of them seemed to be familiar but had more depth, somehow. Vince was oblivious to Howard’s new perception of the world as he took him and the painting to the lift as inconspicuously as possible.


	3. Chapter 3

They fluidly made it to the room with Vince’s strange bubble of confidence not being shattered in anyway by the weirdness that had just happened. He seemed entirely unbothered that their apparent friends had abandoned them, setting them up for some kind of fall. Howard, on the other hand, was a tightly bound ball of stress unable to comprehend how the operation had dismantled so spectacularly. 

“Howard? You okay?” Vince asked untangling his grip and putting the painting down. 

“How are you so unbothered? We trusted those guys! They betrayed us. It’s unbelievable how calm you are right now.”

“Well it could’ve been worse. They didn’t ring the police or nothing – they just wanted that family or whoever to be pissed at us for some reason.”

“I suppose. Maybe they wanted to get far away before the police came.”

“We still have the painting as well.”

“Yep.”

“Howard, are you upset with me?”

“No?”

“It kinda sounds like you are.”

“I’m not upset at you, it’s just, well, I’m not good at making friends. Even if they are just criminals.”

“Come off it Howard – you’re genius at making friends! Or friends that count anyways.”

“You’re my only friend.”

“Exactly! I’m the only one who really matters.”

Howard rubbed his face in frustration.

“But I’m not the only one who matters to you.”

“What d’you mean?”

“You have tons of people to talk to. Look how easily you got us into French underground crime.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Well it’s not fair is it.”

“Sure, it is! I’m good at talking to people. You’re good at loads of other stuff. Like, for instance, what the hell we’re going to do with this painting.”

\--

After an argument about how to find someone to sell it to within their last day in Paris it was decided that after dinner they would find someone to charm into an exchange. Vince was a much better sweet-talker than Howard, and besides, they knew very little about the worth of the painting to be gambling too much. 

The painting was sold to a rich, boastful man who had (ironically) earnt all his money from a few lucky bets on horse races. The small crowd that had gathered round him were enthralled by his ridiculous story of betting his entire savings on a 42-to-1 horse and winning enough to retire. He relished telling Vince about his massive collection of objects he’d managed to gather and Vince brought up that he was selling a painting because he was moving out of Paris. The man brought it extremely quickly, his morality was clearly questionable to Howard but he simply accepted that at least this way it would be going to someone who was willing to buy a painting off a stranger.  
They agreed that Howard would bring the painting to his house after the next round of drinks. The man and Vince continued to drink whilst Howard went back to the hotel to bring the poster tube to the bar. Once he was back Vince, the man and Howard all left the bar together – much to the confusion of their admirers, well Vince and their buyer’s admirers. 

Howard felt a little like he was just there to carry around the painting being mostly ignored by Vince and the man who he figured out was called Johnny through their conversation. He stuck it out just so they could get quickly to and then away from the extravagance of Johnny’s Paris address. His explanation about needing a holiday home in France for fashion reasons excited Vince but felt overly boastful to Howard. They took a car that had been apparently waiting around for Johnny’s instruction.

Vince looked upon the ridiculous glass building with childish wonderment that made Howard uneasy. It was like Vince’s diet – it made Vince happy, but made everyone else feel sick to the stomach. The clean lines of the glass looked more like a building for a business than anything vaguely resembling a home. 

“Wow! This house is amazing.”

“It was originally owned by an architect.”

They were led into a large cream coloured reception area. Howard took the painting out the tubing when he was instructed to. He rolled it out as best as he could without getting in the way of the transaction.

“It is rather beautiful. Original, obviously. I assume the price is knocked down a little because it’s been taken from its canvas.”

“Yep.”

“Do you have a particular figure in mind?”

Vince looked at Howard with a panicked expression. He didn’t really understand value or exchange, and to make matters worse had no idea who the painting was by.  
Johnny looked over expectantly, placing his hands near his chin in a position that read as impatient. 

“Around €5500,” Howard stepped in plucking the number from thin air hoping it would be accepted without question.

“Fine. Done. I won’t be a moment.”

Johnny and his ego left the room with an emptiness. Vince soon broke the tension by letting out an adorable smile that reassured Howard that perhaps they’d pulled their first foray into illegality off without a hitch. They didn’t want to celebrate too quickly so waited until they heard Johnny’s footsteps.

“Here we are. Exactly €5500.”

“Do you mind if I count it?” Howard asked.

“Go ahead. I’ve got time.”

Howard counted the notes out just to make sure they weren’t being cheated out of any money. Johnny’s brashness wasn’t reassuring enough to warrant complete trust. It also made him look slightly like he knew what he was doing. 

“What’s up with this guy then?”

“How’d you mean?” Vince asked.

“You just don’t seem like you’d be friends is all. He’s just... awkward.”

“That’s just his style,” Vince said.

“And I am still in the room.” 

“Sorry, mate. You just have to admit you’re an odd-looking pair.”

Vince looked at him like he’d grown another head and Johnny quickly switched topics to where he was going to put the painting. If either of them were analysing his actions they would have noticed his insecurity but both were concentrated on getting out the house without offending him.  
They put up with him explaining which room the painting would suit the décor of, who designed each room and where the furniture was from until it hit two AM and they made up an excuse and left. The notes in Howard’s pockets didn’t weigh him down at all as they walked across from the driveway towards what looked like a main road. Johnny did offer them his driver but Howard felt uncomfortable about it.

The taxi they flagged down only ended up costing just over 10 euros to get back to the hotel. Vince used his last bits of remaining change combined with a €5 note that Howard still had from dinner. 

Their hotel room needed packing up. Vince’s clothing was spread across the floor artfully, whereas Howard’s was neatly tucked away into his carry-on suitcase. Howard began to pack Vince’s clothes for him as Vince started babbling about exactly what he was planning to buy with his earnings.

“Are we not splitting it?” Howard asked, in the middle of folding a strangely multi-coloured fluffy cardigan with heart buttons. 

“Course. I was just talking about what I wanna do with my share. What are you gonna do with yours Howard?”

“I’ll probably just save it.”

“That’s so dull. You gotta get something fun!”

“You won’t be doubting how fun my decision is when you realise that although this year’s been fun it means the start of a whole new chapter – adulthood. Reliance on yourself. I can’t be frittering away money when I’ll have to pay for rent or taxes or what have you.”

“Wow. You really hate having fun, don’t you?”

“I’ll have you know Howard Moon is so fun that many a parent has become worried about their child becoming too excitable if I talk to them.”

“Well, that sounds a little creepy and all but I’ll forget about it since I think we should probably sleep, yeah?”

“Probably.”

They got ready for bed and whilst Vince was brushing his teeth Howard carefully tucked his half of the cash into the netting part of his suitcase. Vince had already put his in his Minnie Mouse wallet ready to spend as soon as the shops were to open.

How Vince set up his internal clock to wake him up ridiculously early when he was excited was a mystery to Howard, but it could be useful in situations like these. Vince shook the edge Howard’s duvet to wake him up an hour before the alarm Howard set his watch to. He exhaled turning back into the warmth of the other side of the bed.

“Howard. Howard. C’mon, get up you sleepy fucker.”

“Mmmph.” 

“I will drag your duvet away.”

“Fine,” Howard said, his voice muffled by his pillow.

Vince milled around him until he’d finished getting ready. Howard also ended up packing Vince’s remaining items into his suitcase for him. He also re-made the beds much to Vince’s protesting.

They left the hotel, handing their room key in. Once all the admin was finished Vince powered ahead steering Howard towards the Jacquiette shop. Howard walked behind dragging two cases along with him. One was significantly heavier than the other. 

“Maybe you could slow down a bit?”

“No way. The shop opens in half an hour and the walk is fifteen minutes yet.”  
“But we’ll be early?”

“Exactly. The queues are always super long – the earlier we get there the quicker it’ll be.”

‘Well, we do have a flight to catch.”

\--

Their arrival at the shop was an interesting experience. True to Vince’s description there was already a queue of a few trendy Parisian’s outside the door. Howard felt a bit of an outsider hauling two suitcases along with him. The joined the back of the queue and Vince chatted excitedly about what he was going to buy. The people in front of them gave Vince some advice on what was selling out quickly and Howard watched as the back of the line grew to almost reach the entrance of the shop next-door. 

When the line eventually started shuffling down as a few people were let in, Vince craned his neck towards the shop – his eyes shining with excitement. When it was their turn to go into the shop the security guard looked at Howard with sympathy. Vince stormed in, almost skipping to the shiniest items in the shop. Howard looked around a bit, nothing entirely grabbed his attention. It looked almost the exact same as any shop Vince would try and drag him to, with a slightly cleaner layout. Some of the clothes reminded him of things Vince already owned – all glittery hemlines and brightly coloured details. 

“What d’you think about this?” Vince asked, holding up a jacket that was basically Adam and the Ants’ jacket which had been attacked by sequins. 

“It’s shiny?”

“I know!” Vince smiled.

Against all normal etiquette Vince tried on the jacket over his clothes. One lady looked on in disgust, wrinkling her nose, but Vince didn’t notice looking closely at the gold and silver sequins attached to the sleeve. 

“I’m definitely buying this. Isn’t it gorgeous?”

“Yep.” 

He then had a look at the shoes and bags. He considered getting a bag but decided against it when Howard reminded him how often he lost his handbags.

Once he’d filled his arms with clothes Vince took himself to the till. Howard held back watching his friend interact with the cashier. The lady smiled sweetly at Vince as she carefully packed his shopping bag wrapping each item in branded tissue paper. 

“You done?” He asked as Vince gathered his change and swung his bag to where Howard was stood.  
“Yup!”

“Well, little man – let’s go get that plane home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had bigger plans for this which didn't quite work how I wanted so I cut it short. I've also been on holiday so my brain's in sleep mode. And still is, since I'm going away again soon.


End file.
